I keep my shoulders straight, refusing to turn around, but inwardly I’m groaning. The guy behind me, Ty Sampson, is our school’s star football player, an athlete of such distinction that he’s already secured a football scholarship to an Ivy League college. He’s also a complete moron. For some or other reason Ty took a dislike to me when I first moved to this town, and we’ve been sworn enemies ever since.
“Applehead! I’m talking to you!”
I grit my teeth, more annoyed than I want to be by that stupid old nickname. Fact is, my shoulder-length pale-blond hair does perhaps have a faint green shine because of the chemicals in the town pool. But that still doesn’t mean my head looks like a freaking apple.
“Hey, Applehead, I want to show you something.”
I pretend to be completely focused on the essay we’re supposed to be writing. Usually when I ignore him long enough, he drops the stupid name.
“Come on, Jess. Please.”
Aha. My name and the magic word. This could be interesting.
I turn around to see him holding out a piece of paper. Curious despite myself, I snatch what looks like a badly printed picture from his hand and turn to study it under my desk.
Ugh. Porn. How typical.
Only… then I look closer and I see that naked woman with the tattoos and the unfeasibly large boobs is me.
What the hell?
For a moment I’m overcome by a strange sense of vertigo, my head spinning and my stomach contracting as if the earth has suddenly fallen away beneath my feet.
Could this human form truly be so changeable, so vulnerable and unstable?
Could the disguise of my flesh truly be so easy to shake off?
“Look at her! She loves it!” Ty pokes my back with a finger, snorting with laughter.
As soon as he touches me, those strange thoughts disappear and I’m back in class, staring at nothing more profound than a bad photoshop job: someone has cut and pasted my head onto a naked woman’s body and made my hair bright green.
“Pretty hot, Applehead!”
“Shut up!” I hiss at him. I feel my heart beating faster, my face reddening.
“Hey, check it out—she’s blushing!”
From the back of the class I hear a few of Ty’s friends sniggering.
“This isn’t funny, okay? You’re disgusting.”
“Aw, c’mon, Applehead! Don’t be like that.”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” I grind my teeth, count to ten, try keep a hold on my temper. But then I notice some copies of the picture being passed around in class and before I can stop myself, I’m out of my seat, hands balled into fists. “You asshole!” I yell at Ty, crumpling up the picture and throwing it in his laughing face. “I hate you!”
Even Miss Anderson can’t help hearing that, but by the time she looks up from her computer, I’m half-running out the door, my cheeks flaming. And hating myself.
Why do I always let them get to me? What is wrong with me?
“Jess! Wait up!”
I’m halfway to the girls’ bathroom when I hear Ty calling my name. I spin around, fists clenched, ready to fight.
Our school’s star linebacker comes to an abrupt halt a few steps away from me. This close to him it’s almost impossible not to feel intimidated by his size. Despite being five years younger, Ty is at least as big as Gunn, but unlike Gunn, he’s scary too: a six-five solid wall of muscle and testosterone.
I glare at him. “What?”
“Um…”
I expected him to try baiting me again, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he just scratches his head, avoiding my eyes and looking sheepish.
“What do you want?”
“I guess I just wanted… I mean…” But he doesn’t get to make his point because the next moment Mrs. Hector, the vice-principal, appears out of nowhere.
Oh boy.
This day just keeps getting better and better.
Now, I’ve known some awful human beings in my time, but Mrs. Hector is right up there with the pettiest and most vindictive of the lot. She’s forever on my case too: if it was up to her, I’d have been kicked out of this school ages ago.
“What is going on here?” she hisses as she marches toward us.
I don’t even know where to start, so she turns to Ty, narrowing her evil little eyes. “Tyrone? Can you explain what the two of you are doing without a hall pass in the middle of a lesson?”
“Um, no, Ma’am,” he says, and I can almost see the rusty cogs in his brain slowly turning as he tries to think of an excuse.
Mrs. Hector glares at us for a few seconds before homing in on the piece of paper Ty is still clutching. “What is that in your hand?” she demands shrilly. And then, a second later: “Principal’s office, right now.”
By the time Principal Sweeney is ready to see us, I’ve calmed down a bit, not least because it makes for a refreshing change to be here as the injured party for once.
Besides, it’s only a stupid piece of paper, after all. Why get upset just because an idiot like Ty Sampson finally discovered the dubious joys of photoshop?
When his assistant shows us in, I’ve pretty much planned my whole speech. First, I’ll tell Sweeney how disappointed I am by this kind of blatant objectification, and then I’ll demand an apology from Ty, preferably in front of the whole class, and—
Sweeney beats me to it.
“I am really disappointed in you,” he intones in that slow, weirdly measured voice I’ve come to know so well over the years. “This type of behavior is completely unacceptable and will not remain unpunished.”
Hah! I allow myself a moment of smug satisfaction. The football players usually get away with anything in this school. You tell ’em, Sweeney!
But then everything goes horribly wrong.
“Miss Sarkany, I don’t know if this kind of immoral behavior was acceptable in the foreign backwaters where you grew up, but in my school the distribution of smut is not taken lightly.”
It takes a few beats before I realize he’s addressing me instead of Ty, and when it does register, I can only sit there gaping like a fish.
“I find it deeply distasteful that a young woman would go to such extraordinary lengths to capture the attention of her fellow students. Extremely distasteful, in fact.” He glares at me over his bifocals and shakes his head so vigorously that his Trump-style comb-over quivers precariously. “To parade yourself in such a vulgar way—”
“What? I... No!” As my reeling brain begins to grasp what the principal is saying, I find myself stammering, so outraged that I struggle to form a complete sentence. “I didn’t do anything! Why would I—?”
He simply talks louder to drown my stuttering protests. “It has not escaped my notice that certain girls in this school only think about boys and—” he pauses menacingly “—intercourse, but I will not have you corrupting the minds of these wholesome young athletes, who are simply trying to give their best for their school and their town.”
“Wholesome young… What?”
I’m literally struck dumb as the principal continues his tirade about “loose women” who have tried to “ruin good, noble men” ever since Eve gave Adam that apple. It’s only when he begins to draw comparisons between me and Delilah that I finally find my voice again.
“Principal Sweeney, please. Listen.” I speak as slowly and as calmly as I can, fighting back tears of anger and frustration. “I had nothing to do with this. Someone,” I glare viciously at Ty, “photoshopped my head onto this photo. I only saw it today for the first time.”
“Actually, sir, Jess is telling the truth.”
When I flash Ty a nasty look, I’m astonished to see that he’s looking weirdly sincere for a change.
“Me and a few guys were playing around with this new app, and the printer was just kind of standing there …” He shrugs his big shoulders. “I guess we thought it would be funny, on account of how Jess always loses it so badly…” He glances at me as his voice begins t
o peter out.
“Oh, Tyrone.” Sweeney sighs and turns to Ty in an exasperated, faintly amused kind of way. “I appreciate that you’re trying to protect the little lady, but it’s really not necessary. We all know what happened here. Jess is a troubled young woman.”
Well, if I wasn’t before, I certainly am now.
Of all the unfair, illogical, ridiculous… Now, in the old days, I’d probably have done something spectacularly stupid at this point, but over the past summer I’ve spent most of my self-defense classes with Gunn working to control my temper and emotions. And so, for once in my life, I decide to not be stupid. Gunn is forever telling me that most fights aren’t physical. Let’s see if I can put those sessions to good use.
I take a deep breath, trying to remember his exact words.
Don’t be overwhelmed by your anger. Don’t be blinded by the problem. Don’t think about your enemy’s strength. Focus on your own strength. Focus on the solution. Focus on the deep, still well of power inside of you.
“Principal Sweeney.”
When he finally stops talking, I draw on every ounce of self-control I’ve ever possessed in my life.
“I understand that you’re only doing your job, but—with respect—this time you’ve completely misunderstood this situation. I had nothing to do with any of this. Some guys cut and pasted a picture of my head onto a naked woman’s body. I didn’t know about it, and I was highly upset when I found out. I know I’ve caused trouble in the past, but today is different. You have to believe me.”
I say all this clearly and without hesitation, my voice even, if a bit higher than usual. When I finish, I’m proud of myself.
But he shakes his head. “You can’t talk your way out of this one, missy. It’s no use trying to make yourself out as the victim—we’re not having any of that ‘hashtag’ feminist nonsense in my school.” He gives a derisive little snort and waves the crumpled piece of paper in my face. “The evidence is right here. I know what I see, and what I see is a lustful young woman who does not respect the God-given purity of her own body—” And off he goes again.
Strangely enough though, my efforts at gaining control over my emotions must’ve worked, because suddenly it’s as if I’m standing outside my body, looking at this situation from a distance. Or, no, I’m still inside my body, acutely aware of its distress—my heart pounding, my cheeks burning, my muscles clenched in frustration—but I am also aware that my mind is calm, still as a deep pool.
I am in control.
The situation may not be under control, but I am in control of myself.
Around me the air is shimmering and strangely thick, almost heavy, and I realize several things at once. First, I will never convince Principal Sweeney of my innocence because he is looking for a reason—any reason—to kick me out of his school. Second, Ty Sampson is not my enemy. Third, I have the power to make it stop.
I have the power to make it stop.
The idea is suddenly startlingly clear. I can make Sweeney stop before he goads me into doing something that will hurt me. He wants to get rid of me, but I can make him stop.
And so I drown out his rush of angry words, his hateful accusations, the spit gathering at the sides of his mouth, the quivering of his comb-over, the glistening of his long nose hairs, the anger inside of him, the spite toward me.
I drown it out and I focus on my own strength, steadily reaching for that bottomless reservoir of power that Gunn always says lies hidden in the deepest part of me.
I am absolutely calm. I can do this.
And then I feel it— I feel it!—a dizzying, terrifying, exhilarating rush of sheer power, and I laugh out loud as I let it blast out of my body and into the world.
Chapter 4
Many of this blog’s loyal followers (love ya’ll!!{MISSING SYMBOL}) have asked why the husband and I chose to settle here, in the so-called ‘back of beyond’☺. Well, to start with, just look at those open skies. Can you imagine waking up to that every morning? Can you imagine going to bed at night without locking your doors? Or three different people stopping to help when you get caught with a flat tire? (Thanks so much, Cal, Judy, and Tyler!☺) Can you imagine neighbors without snobbery or pretention? A society full of good Christian people just trying to make an honest living? Well, if you can, you’ll begin to see what we find so special about this place …
Luckily, our little town (pop. 9,837) hasn’t suffered the economic hardships that destroyed so many of our neighboring farm towns. (Not to talk politics here, but we all know who’s to blame for that!!! ☹) Around here, we are thriving, cultured, and prosperous. Did you know we have a real historical district: a stunning lane of Victorian houses listed on the National Register of Historic Places? And what about our charming county courthouse and square, our four block long business district and our historic grain elevator which draws tourists from all over the country? Not to mention the economic hub and heart of our town: The Pendragon Plant, a leather, corn and beef canning factory that employs over a thousand people!!!
Most of you probably wouldn’t have heard of Jack Pendragon, our local billionaire, because the family is true-blue old money, the type that rates respectful privacy above cheap fame. But let me tell you, those people are pure class, and the fact that a great man like Mr Pendragon and his family live here (in an actual castle!!) just goes to show what a special place this is - if our little neck of the woods is good enough for the Pendragons, it should sure as sugar be good enough for most people!!
Extract from Ramblings of a Small-Town Gal blog
“So … what? You stopped the principal with your superpowers?”
“Yeah. Basically.”
“This is a joke, right?”
“I’m as serious as I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Dude.” Daniel gives me one of his looks. “You know I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself.”
I sigh, look up at the white clouds chasing themselves across the blue sky. Maybe I do need to get a hold of myself. (Daniel is usually right about these things.) I suppress the urge to snap at him and try to think of a better way of explaining what happened.
We are lying on our backs, soaking up the sun on the small, hidden patch of lawn next to the senior parking lot at the back of the school. After this morning’s drama, I just couldn’t face all the stares and sniggers waiting for me in the cafeteria, and Daniel joined me because he could see I was upset and needed support. Also, he’s a secret smoker who’ll take any opportunity to sneak a few cigarettes.
I watch him take a deep drag and blow a few elegant smoke rings. The white circles linger in the air for a long moment before disappearing one by one.
“Okay,” I say, “so how would you explain the fact that the principal suddenly stopped talking—” I snap my fingers “— just like that? And he froze—seriously, he literally froze, finger in the air—and then he just sat there, completely still, like this was a movie and someone had just pressed ‘pause’.”
Daniel shrugs. “Maybe he realized how unreasonable he was being?”
I snort.
“It could’ve been a million things. Maybe he’s got some medical condition.”
“And maybe I’ve got superpowers.”
“Dude.”
“I’m serious!”
He laughs. “You were baked, okay? I know that thing with the fire felt real to you, but it was the weed, I promise you. You need to get over this whole superpower delusion now. It’s time.”
“I’m not even talking about Cayden’s party. Although now that you mention it, I’m pretty sure I didn’t eat any chocolate brownies that night.”
“Dude.”
“It must be some kind of superpower! Don’t you see?”
“And this superpower would consist of what exactly?”
“I told you already.”
“What, the ‘river of power’ inside of you that ‘floods out,’ forcing the world to ‘bend to your will’?”
“Pretty much,
yeah.”
“Dude. Listen to yourself.”
“I swear, if you ‘dude’ me one more time I’m going to slap you. I’m not even kidding. I’m scared, okay? I feel like I’m going crazy.”
He frowns. “You’re really serious?”
“Just listen to what happened, okay?”
He nods, putting out his cigarette without lighting another.
“There was this deep silence, and then there was this tingle all over my body, and then there was this feeling of peace. Of rightness. And then I knew what I wanted to do, and what I wanted to do was to make him stop. I didn’t really think further than that. So I told him to stop and…” I look at Daniel, trying to gauge his reaction, but he’s staring at the clouds, frowning. “It worked! He just, well, he just stopped.”
No reaction.
“It was so weird,” I continue after a few seconds, “but at the time I didn’t think it was weird at all. Ty was freaking out, going: ‘Principal Sweeney, are you alright?’ and all that but I just… I just walked out. I felt so calm. So sure that I had the right to silence anyone I wanted. And then, like, I don’t know, minutes later, I felt the power leave me, and the real world return. It was like waking from a dream, if you know what I mean: it all seemed so logical at the time but afterward…” I catch a quick look at his face again. “I’m not explaining this very well, am I?”
He sighs. “Actually, you’re not doing too badly.”
“I’m not?”
He supports himself on one elbow as he lights another cigarette and takes a deep drag. “I’ve been expecting something like this to happen for a while now.”
Instantly, all my hairs stand on end. “You have?”
He nods. “I’ve been waiting for you to say something. And I’m glad you did because now I can tell you my secret too.”
“You have a secret?”
Another solemn nod.
“Can you tell me what it is?”
“Yes.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not really the Daniel you know. Or rather, I am the Daniel you know, but I’m also… different. Truth is, I’ve been sent from the future by your older self, to tell you to change course now or face the certain annihilation of the entire human race.”
Ordinary Girl (The Dark Dragon Chronicles Book 1) Page 3
